


The One Left Behind

by Basmathgirl



Category: Fright Night (2011), The Office (US)
Genre: F/M, Swearing, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 16:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter confesses something he had never intended to, when talking with his friend Charley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** "Would it be too boring to ask for Peter V yet again this year? :-X"  
>  **Warning:** I refuse to avoid swearing if a story involves Peter; it just wouldn’t feel right to. And it refers to a previous sexual encounter.  
>  **Disclaimer:** the nearest I’ve ever got to owning Peter Vincent was to stand outside the theatre in the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas.  
>  **A/N:** I completely made up the surname, and intend no offense to any persons living or dead.  
>  **A/N2:** I wrote this as a Christmas gift for **serenityslady** as a sort of sequel to my fic, [Detained Attraction](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1052777).

“Ginger!” Peter yelled at the top of his lungs. “Where are you, you lazy bitch?!”

From where he sat on the seat opposite, Charley frowned in confusion. “Why do you call her Ginger? Surely her name is something else.”

“Oh it is,” Peter agreed. “But Ginger is always the name of the woman I’m sleeping with.”

“And why is that?” Charley wanted to know. “Unless there wasn’t an original Ginger…”

“There was.” Peter turned his attention onto the glass of Midori in his hand, swilling it around the crystal pattern before taking a sip. “Long ago,” he added quietly.

Feeling Charley’s eye on him, he then changed the subject. It could be returned to another day, if he ever felt like it.

  
gif by **dunderklumpen**   


Sometime later after Jerry had been dealt with, Charley was in a reflexive mood as he sat in Peter’s apartment. Now was his a chance to make Peter open up a little more about his life. “You never said,” he remarked.

Peter was inevitably pouring his evening glass of Midori. “About what?”

Charley risked posing, “Why Ginger was called Ginger.”

“Ah,” Peter gasped out and started to amble over with his drink. “My erm.... first proper girlfriend was called Ginger. Well, sort of. She hated me calling her that and would hit me if I tried, but silly sod that I was, I insisted on saying it.” He paused as he reminisced. “She had lovely long ginger hair, you see; beautifully freckled ivory skin and a body to die for! I’d cum just thinking about her.” A rueful chuckle appeared then as he draped himself over his chair. “She certainly knew how to push my buttons.”

This was very different to what Charley had expected. “What happened to her?” he asked.

“The normal sort of thing. I pissed her off big time, she changed towns, got a new job and I never heard from her again.” Peter looked quite glum as he sat there.

“But you could seek her out if you wanted to,” Charley reminded him.

The sad expression deepened. “I could; or I could leave her the fuck alone after all this time.”

“No, but you could!” Charley enthused, almost bouncing on the cushion. “I could help you track her down.”

“Or I could go back to Poland, as I had planned.” The gleam in Peter’s eye said to leave well alone. 

“Poland?!” Charley blurted out in confusion.

“Yes, Poland. I promised myself that I’d go and visit some distant family when I got the chance, seeing as I haven’t been back since…” He gave a cough. “My real name wasn’t Peter Vincent. I changed all that as soon as I could.”

“Really?” Charley edged nearer in curiosity. 

“No one in England could pronounce it. It was a bloody stupid name. Piotr Wieczek; I ask you! I changed that as soon as I reached eighteen, I can tell you,” Peter bitterly explained. “Nobody has had any problems saying or spelling Peter Vincent.”

“But how…?” Charley began to ask.

“Dad went over as a Polish pilot during the war, and I was the result of his second marriage to one of the local girls. Something else to get the crap kicked out of me for,” he mumbled the last bit as he drank some more of his liqueur. “Anyway… I know where she is.” He finished his drink decisively.

“Who?” Charley was back to being puzzled. “Your mom?”

“No!” Peter chastised him ferociously and got up to replenish his glass. “She’s safe now. I’m talking about Nellie. I found her a few months ago.” Having filled the glass again, he added, “And no, I haven’t contacted her or anything, before you ask. As far as I know she’s happy with her latest bloke, or moved onto yet another one.”

That sounded strangely familiar to Charley’s ears as he stared at the serial lover-but-never-a-boyfriend in front of him. “I suppose it’s a long way to go back to England.”

Peter smirked knowingly. “Who said she’s not here within easy travelling distance? Just a few hours flight away.”

Charley jumped up in excitement. “Then you must go, Peter! Seek her out.”

Leaning heavily against the bar, Peter glared at him. “This isn’t a fucking fairy tale. If I turn up it won’t have a happy ending.”

“It might,” Charley insisted. “How will you know until you try?”

Fucking kids and their puppy-dog eyes! “Alright,” Peter growled. “I’ll try. But when, not if, I fail, I shall blame you.” He then strode away purposefully.

“Where are you going?!” Charley called out.

“To pack! Where the fuck did you think I was going?” Peter yelled back.

It was no good, he was doing the right thing for once, and Charley smirked with delight to himself. Say what he will, Peter obviously wanted to go to her, this mystery Nellie woman; otherwise he would have argued him into the ground to get out of it. 

Fifteen minutes later, Peter was heading out of the door and towards the airport. 

Charley leaned back, feeling very satisfied as he spoke to Amy on the phone about Peter’s romantic dash and the fact they had a whole empty apartment to enjoy in his absence.


End file.
